


refuse your unmaking

by fensandmarshes



Series: we'll do what we gotta do (what will come is what is due) [1]
Category: Dream SMP (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: BAMF Niki | Nihachu, Character Study, Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Deity Niki | Nihachu, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Niki | Nihachu Is Fucking Fed Up And Gets To Go Feral, Niki | Nihachu-centric, Post-January 6th (DSMP), Post-Second Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Niki | Nihachu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fensandmarshes/pseuds/fensandmarshes
Summary: Niki Nihachu walks through the wastes of L’Manberg in no armour and bare feet. It is burning, and something is caught in her throat. Her hands are shaking.She would like to say that she has never hated like this before. It would be a lie.Or: After the third bombing of L'Manberg, Niki turns her back on its people and goes in search of revenge.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Niki | Nihachu, Niki | Nihachu & Everyone, Niki | Nihachu & L'Manberg, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot
Series: we'll do what we gotta do (what will come is what is due) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128926
Comments: 45
Kudos: 180





	refuse your unmaking

**Author's Note:**

> LET NIKI NIHACHU GO FUCKING FERAL. since this is smp-verse only i don't care about it being shared beyond ao3; however, don't shove anything i write in ccs' faces, that's just a dick move.
> 
> i can't believe i got up early for those streams. so glad i did though. 
> 
> thank you to lieyuu for the beta!!
> 
> DREAM SMP SPOILERS FOR JANUARY 5TH AND BEYOND. I CANNOT FUCKING STRESS THIS ENOUGH LOL.

Niki Nihachu walks through the wastes of L’Manberg in no armour and bare feet. It is burning, and something is caught in her throat. Her hands are shaking.

She would like to say that she has never hated like this before. It would be a lie. She has never _broken_ like this before, though - always chosen to be gentle and quiet and lovely - and something about having her jagged edges bared, her shattered eyes seen freely and her unmasked chin held high, something about it unsettles her. The kid, Ranboo, looked at her a moment too long - she glared until he backed off. Jack gave her some odd glances when she was at _her bakery, all broken, all gone,_ but they -

They had other things to worry about. There were bigger things that had been broken.

Niki Nihachu walks through the wastes of L’Manberg in no armour and bare feet, through the wastes of a brighter time and her brighter self - and she comes out on the other side a person she did not know how to be, before today. Still does not know how to be. Everything changes on Doomsday, and almost everything ends with the world. She walks out of the ruins of her city and her home and her special place, Will’s, with her head held high; she goes to an ender chest that has survived the explosions and takes out her netherite.

They want a battle. They have already had their Waterloo, but if they want it so badly - if Tommy wants it so fucking badly - she will show them a fight.

Niki Nihachu dons her armour there, just outside the crater that was L’Manberg, in the face of a taunting dawn; she rests her sword and shield on the ground as she straps on her chestplate. The grass has been scorched by the radiant heat of the TNT, leaving only bare earth behind. She is sick of being on the side of people facing consequences - sick of losing faith, face, hope - she is sick of _losing,_ and she is going to war again. There are no cornflowers, long since destroyed. There is no blue here.

She will not be silenced. She will not fucking calm herself.

Her armour is not enchanted, but it’s honest and true and she’s always looked good in black. She mines the ender chest, hacking it from the gaping hole in which it rests, cradled like an egg in a nest; this was someone’s home once. She does not think of her bakery. When the ender chest breaks, she claims it as her own - the spoils of war, maybe, or just another looter in the clutch of a post-apocalyptic world - and sets off.

Her feet are no longer bare, but the journey is hard. She crosses deserts, and rivers, and mountains. The sun wears her down. The rain soaks her to the bone, chilling her beneath her armour. There’s no lightning; she allows herself a burst of laughter at the memory of what was very nearly karma. Fuck Tommy. She’s sick of it. 

She is sick, as she crosses the world in search for the shrine to its cruel god; she thinks she has a fever as she walks. But she’s come too far and she’s never been weak. Niki Nihachu finds the shrine on the ninth day, like something out of a legend - and the cruel god is waiting for her.

“I saw you coming,” he says. “I was curious. Only reason I didn’t just kill you.”

Niki Nihachu, fevered and shaking and with her netherite muddied and bloodied, refuses to fall to her knees, despite the way that Dream’s very presence draws her inexorably towards the ground, soothes her into giving into him. She stands her ground, and wipes her brow. “Thank you for not killing me,” she says, and it makes the cruel god stand from his little throne and take a pace towards her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Dream says, but he tilts his head. His very presence is a thousand whispers in her ears.

It is cruel. She is sick of cruelty, but she is even more tired of losing.

Niki Nihachu looks the god of her world in the eye, as one equal to another. She says, “Are you going to kill them?”

Dream checks his nails. It’s a gesture utterly incongruent with the storied axe strapped to his back, with the too-sweet, too-cruel smirk that curls across his face; he is not wearing that awful mask, but his skin is just as fake as his porcelain. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says he, says Dream, says the cruel god. “Why do you ask?”

“Give me your axe,” says Niki Nihachu, shivering and furious and full of hatred.

This makes Dream really look at her. 

The smile slips away. The whispers melt from her ears. “You want to _kill them,_ ” Dream says, incredulous, and there’s a hint of pitchiness to his voice, flawed and human; it reminds Niki that he was a boy once, a boy who became a god before he ever became a man. “Since when do _you_ -”

“Give me your axe or I will take it from you,” Niki says, her voice shaking. 

Dream, youngest and cruelest of the gods, takes a step backwards. He says, as if trying to assert himself, “I can give you more than that.”

The next day, on the sixteenth of January, the dawn is a little less cruel than it was the day before. It rises over Niki Nihachu, goddess of revenge, and her brand new shrine.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! consider leaving me a comment if you enjoyed?


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